


Playdate

by RetroactiveCon



Series: Hold Tight to What You Love [15]
Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Autistic Hartley Rathaway, Autistic Jerrie Rathaway, Autistic Mick Rory, Barry Allen has ADHD, Cute Kids, Fluff without Plot, Multi, Neurodivergent Allen-Snart Children, Neurodiversity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-05
Updated: 2021-03-05
Packaged: 2021-03-18 03:02:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29727369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RetroactiveCon/pseuds/RetroactiveCon
Summary: “I’m glad I brought her here to play with them. The twins seem happy to play with her.”“They’re always happy for more ND friends,” Barry agrees. He gives Hartley a crooked, sad smile. “I wish I had had more ND friends when I was little. It might have helped me not feel so alone in my brain.”
Relationships: Barry Allen/Leonard Snart, Jerrie Rathaway/Lita | Mick Rory's Daughter
Series: Hold Tight to What You Love [15]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1571482
Comments: 13
Kudos: 26





	Playdate

**Author's Note:**

  * For [blueelvewithwings](https://archiveofourown.org/users/blueelvewithwings/gifts).



> For blueelvewithwings, who requested some fluff after the last angsty installment of this series. The rating is for language, because I couldn't keep Mick from swearing even with children in the room.

In the aftermath of what Roy Bivolo did to Len, the twins are jumpy and nervous. Barry’s heart aches for them, because they’re not naturally distrustful. Having whammied Len lash out at them has left them anxious of all their family, no matter how much the twins trust them otherwise. 

In the midst of this, Mick has an excellent idea: give them some time with people closer in age to them, who love them. “Lita dotes on ‘em,” he rumbles. “Let’s bring her over and give ‘em some time together.”

Barry is delighted to agree. The twins adore Lita just as much as she dotes on them, even though they’ve only met fairly recently, when Mick was finally able to reconnect with Lita and her mother. Barry has had the privilege of watching some of Lita’s harsh, defensive walls break apart each time she plays with the twins. Despite the age difference, she loves meeting them where they’re at. That kind of gentle affection is just what the twins need, given how scared they’ve been.

On the appointed day, Mick and Lita aren’t the only ones who show up. Mark comes with his little Joss, who’s two years younger than the twins and follows them around like they hung the moon. The twins give overlapping shouts of greeting and run across the room to embrace their honorary cousins. Nora is faster than little Mick, but she slows down before throwing her arms around Joss. 

“Baby cousin baby cousin,” she coos, rocking back and forth. Barry’s heart breaks again. She’s a kinetic stimmer (it’s part of being a speedster); hearing her verbally stim like this is uncommon and only comes out when she’s stressed. 

“Not a baby,” Joss says more peacefully than she ever does. She stands still and lets Nora rock and squeeze her. “Just littler than you.”

Little Mick runs over to Lita and throws their arms around her. She makes a soft sound and scoops them into her arms. “Hey there, sweetheart. Do you wanna do me a big favor, and play a flash card game with me? I need to review for my AP tests.”

Barry scoots up close to Mick as Lita carries little Mick off to study with her. “So she came over on the condition that she wouldn’t lose study time?”

Mick shrugs. “Nah. She wanted to come over and be with ‘em, but she just made the flash cards before we came. She’s doing the…” He waves a hand. “The thing. Where your brain gets stuck on something.”

“Hyperfocus.” Barry bounces a little at being able to provide the word. “Yeah, I get that. Little Mick will be happy to help. They have a memory like Len’s, so they’ll retain all this stuff even if they don’t know what it means.”

Mick rumbles a laugh. “Yeah, I know that one.” He scans the apartment, clearly looking for Len. “Where’s he at? Did he stay?”

Barry shakes his head. Len had left early that morning and said he’d be gone all day—that he had to go somewhere to think. He hadn’t said where, just that his cell phone might not work if Barry tried to get hold of him. “Do you know if he has a spot he likes to go where he’d have bad cell service?”

Mick nods. “Yeah. We used to go to this field out in Keystone, just the two of us, to get away from it all. He might be there. Hard to tell with him—likes to run off.” He squeezes Barry’s shoulders, oddly possessively. “He comes back, though.”

“I know.” Barry’s had his own experiences with Len’s penchant for running off. It worries him less now than it used to, but this is a more trying time than most. 

From behind them, there’s a knock on the door. Confused—don’t they have everyone?—Barry opens it. Outside is Hartley, looking more cheerful than he usually does. At his side is a short, elfin young women with bright red hair and constantly-flitting green eyes. When the door opens, she bounces. “Hello Barry Allen!”

Barry’s eyes widen. “Hi, Jerrie! How did you get away from your folks?” He’s seen her only a couple of times, always in the company of one of the elder Rathaways. (He’s gathered she has a history of trying to slip away in search of Hartley and wandering through dangerous places.)

She beams. “I would like to keep my secrets, Barry Allen. I would also like to come in.”

“Oh, sure!” Barry stands aside from the door to let her in. She stops in the threshold, bounces three times, and then proceeds inside. Barry hides a smile. He can relate to her odd mannerisms—he developed some of his own in the aftermath of his parents’ death, to make him feel safe. They faded with time, but he’d had a much more helpful family than she does. 

Hartley insinuates himself between Barry and Mick. “I knew Nora and little Mick were in need of company, and I figured, heaven knows Jerrie is in need of some other ND company. I know she’s a bit old for them, but…”

“Eh.” Mick shrugs. “She can’t be that much older than Lita, and they adore her. Bet your little one will fit right in.”

Jerrie stands in the middle of the room, arms out from her sides as though poised for flight. When she sees Lita, she hurries over. “Fellow mutant redhead!”

Barry snorts. He can’t imagine that endearing her to Lita. It certainly gets the twins’ attention, though; Nora looks up from where she’s playing with Joss and squeaks, “Mutant?” 

Lita looks up from her flash cards with narrowed eyes. Upon seeing Jerrie, she gets to her feet and props her hip against the edge of the table. It’s a defensive posture that Barry has seen a lot on Len (less on Mick, who gets angry more than he gets closed off). “Mutant? That’s what you call it?” With a crooked smile, she admits, “My mom always said I was marked by my dad’s love of fire. But I can get behind ‘mutant’ too.”

Jerrie bounces on the balls of her feet. “I am a mutant in a lot of ways.”

Nora bolts over to her, lightning crackling around her. Jerrie startles, then stares like she’s never seen anything more amazing. (Proudly, Barry doubts she has. Speed Force lightning is really something else.) “Do you have powers?” Nora babbles excitedly. “Does mutant mean different like meta?”

Jerrie kneels down in front of her, gaping in awe. “No, I’m not metahuman! You’re incredible! Do you generate that much static electricity when you run? Why is it blue?”

Mick laughs and claps a hand on Hartley’s shoulder. “She’s just like you, kid. You’d nerd out just as fast if you saw something cool.”

Hartley gives him an awkward smile. Then he clears his throat and reminds her, “Jerrie. Introductions.”

“Oh right!” Jerrie bounces again, which is even cuter since she’s on her knees. “My name is Jerrie Rathaway. How do you do?”

Nora gives an answering bounce and a little wave. “Hi Jerrie! I’m Nora, or sometimes Auntie Lisa calls me Nora Joy because she likes the way it sounds all together. And this is Joss!” She hugs Joss, who’s just caught up with her. “Joss is not baby even though she’s littler than me.” 

Jerrie nods solemnly and holds out her hand to Joss. “Hello, not-so-little Joss.”

Joss puffs up her chest proudly. “I’m not little!” she agrees. “Hi Jerrie friend!”

Little Mick slips down from their seat beside Lita, scampers over, and waves at Jerrie too. “Jerrie hi! I’m Mick. Like Uncle Mick, only littler.”

“They’re _they_ ,” Nora adds protectively. She sets her little shoulders like she’s prepared to launch herself at Jerrie if she misgenders little Mick. Not for the first time, Barry is furious at their school. (That’s the only place Nora could possibly have heard little Mick misgendered—the Rogues or Team Flash never would.)

Jerrie nods and agrees, “You are small and contain multitudes. Hello little Mick.”

Little Mick rocks slowly side to side. “I contain multitudes,” they echo. “I like that.”

While Jerrie chats with the twins and Joss, Lita sits back down with her flash cards. Mick watches her sadly. “I’m gonna go make snacks,” he rumbles to Barry. It’s at least half an excuse to swing by Lita’s seat and check on her, but Barry won’t call him out on it. If one of his kids looked lonely, he wouldn’t be half so subtle. 

“Snacks?” Nora bolts over to Mick and holds up her arms. “Take me, Uncle Mick, I’ll help!”

Mick scoops her up with a soft little noise and bounces her gently on his hip. “I know you will,” he agrees. “You’re my good helper girl. You wanna stim with me?”

Nora nods and rubs her open palms over his stubbly head. “Scratcha-scratcha,” she coos, seemingly without knowing she’s speaking.

When they walk past Lita’s chair, Mick peers down at her homework. “Hey. Making progress?”

“It’s going.” She pauses in her scrutiny of a set of flash cards to rest her head against Mick’s chest. It’s such a sweet, domestic scene that Barry’s heart aches. “Hi, little cousin.”

Nora pats the top of Lita’s head. “Hi,” she coos. “Making a snack. Requests?”

Lita perks up. “Ants on a log?” she asks, and gives Mick the sweetest wide-eyed look Barry has ever seen from her. He can’t blame Mick for melting instantly; he’d do the same. 

“Course.” Mick ruffles her hair over her protests and wanders off to the kitchen, still carrying Nora. 

“I wouldn’t have figured a Rory for a master manipulator,” Hartley confesses in an undertone. Barry jumps a little at his whisper—he’d half forgotten about how close he was. Then he chuckles at the content of that whisper. 

“I wouldn’t call her a master manipulator. Mick’s just a sweetheart—not that he can ever hear me say that, or I think he’ll kill me.”

“Oh, no, he’s a sweetheart,” Jerrie echoes. Barry winces at how loud she is, but only because he also has an idea of what it’s like to have no volume regulation. “I have a sense for good vibes. He has good trustworthy vibes.”

Understandably, little Mick immediately asks if she has powers like Cisco. Hartley chuckles through her explanation that no, she doesn’t, she just has her intuition. “I’m glad I brought her here. They seem happy to play with her.”

“They’re always happy for more ND friends,” Barry agrees. He gives Hartley a crooked, sad smile. “I wish I had had more ND friends when I was little. It might have helped me not feel so alone in my brain.”

Hartley nods slowly. He’s only recently been diagnosed autistic, after pursuing a diagnosis at Cisco’s insistence. The psychiatrist had said his masking was so unyielding that he was nearly impossible to diagnose. “I understand that feeling too.”

Mick and Nora return to the room with a plate of celery smeared with peanut butter and topped with raisins. Ants on a log have always sounded like sensory hell to Barry, so he’s not surprised Nora is munching a piece of bread instead. Similarly, little Mick hurries into the kitchen in search of something else to eat. Jerrie, however, bounces to her feet, exclaims, “Raisins!” in a tone of genuine delight, and bolts over to the table. Joss follows as fast as her tiny chubby legs will carry her. 

Lita watches Jerrie approach with wide eyes. “Oh, you like them too. My dad gets frustrated with them—with making them, and then with the peanut butter texture.”

“It’s a slimy fucking nightmare,” Mick rumbles. Barry raises his eyes to the ceiling. No matter how many times it’s impressed on him not to swear around the children, Mick can’t make it through the day without dropping at least one ‘fuck.’ 

“Fucking sensory nightmare,” little Mick chirps in agreement. They wander over to the table, clutching a plate of cheese and crackers. 

“Baby,” Barry interjects. He hurries over to the table to snuggle them. “We don’t say that word. Only Uncle Mick gets to say that word.”

“Oh.” Little Mick is instantly solemn. “Right. Sorry, Papa.”

Their exaggeratedly solemn expression would be funny enough, but behind them, Joss is pulling a face at her first bite of ants on a log. Together, the combination makes Barry snort a laugh. “You’re all too cute.”

Jerrie reaches over to tap her celery stick against Lita’s. “I guess we get the whole plate to ourselves!” she says cheerfully. 

“Hey Red.” Mick beckons Barry around the table toward the kitchen. “Could do with your help cleanin’ up.” 

Barry doubts it—there can’t be that much mess from ants on a log—but he follows anyway. When they get into the kitchen, Mick explains his true motive. “Let the little ones do their own thing without us hovering over ‘em for awhile. They’ll connect better that way.”

“You’re right, of course.” When Mick puts it like that, Barry sees the need to take his time slowly handwashing every dish. It’s sensory hell, but for such a good reason, it’s bearable. “You know you’re a better dad to Lita than you think you are. Like Len’s a better dad to the twins than he gives himself credit for.”

That calls to mind thoughts of what Roy Bivolo caused Len to do to the twins (and to Barry, but he refuses to give it the same importance). Mick must follow Barry’s train of thought, because he lays a warm, heavy hand on his shoulder. 

“Hey, Red. You did what you had to, kept the twins safe, and you got Len back to normal. You’re the hero of the hour. But…a lot happened. It’s okay to let yourself make sense of that. Just ‘cause you love Len, doesn’t mean you have to forget it ever happened. That’s dishonest for the both of you.”

Barry sighs. It’s good, reasonable advice, and his logical brain wants to follow it. Unfortunately, Barry’s logical brain has never once gotten the better of his emotions. “I know. It’s just…”

“No 'just.'” Mick squeezes him. The pressure goes directly to Barry’s stimmy brain, shutting all the noisy cluttered thoughts immediately off. “You can take time for yourself. That’s okay too.”

Music drifts in from the living room. When Barry peeks his head out to see what’s going on, the twins and Joss are happy-bouncing in the middle of the room. Lita has forsaken her flash cards and is attempting a clumsy two-step with Jerrie, who’s wiggling while she dances. Hartley is rocking idly on the sidelines and looks as content as Barry has ever seen him. 

“Oh yeah,” Mick says happily from behind him. “Good idea for all of ‘em.”

Mark returns to pick Joss up while they’re all still dancing. Joss is annoyed at the interruption but caves instantly at talk of ice cream on the way home. At that, the twins, Lita, and Jerrie all look at their respective adults with pleading eyes. 

“Oh, all right,” Mick sighs, laying his hand on Lita’s shoulder. “Don’t go telling your mom how easy I gave in when you get back home, though.”

Lita pats his hand and grins. “It’s our little secret,” she promises, in a singsong voice that reminds Barry alarmingly of Len. Briefly, he reconsiders the type of influence she might be as the twins get older. 

“We could go together,” Jerrie suggests faux-nonchalantly, her eyes darting between Hartley and Lita. Hartley notices immediately. So do the twins, who bounce over to give their older friends hugs. 

“Good idea,” little Mick chirps to Jerrie. 

Nora tugs Lita down to her level and says, in a carrying child whisper, “Get ice cream with the pretty girl.”

Lita snorts and ruffles Nora’s curls. “Well, I guess when you put it that way…”

Mick and Lita, Hartley and Jerrie all leave together. As soon as they go, Barry kneels down between the twins and catches them in his arms. “Hey, sweethearts,” he coos. “Did you have a good playdate?”

They start rocking almost in unison. Little Mick nods in time with their rocking. “Yeah! I like Jerrie a lot. Plus it’s always good to see Lita and Joss, they’re so sweet.”

Nora bounces slightly. “We can have ice cream too, Papa?”

Barry glances at the clock. Len should be back soon—he’s been staying out until dinner time to give the twins some time to work through their complicated feelings. (Barry thinks that does more harm than good, but Len has never been good at listening when he has an idea in his head.) “Can we wait until Abba gets home? He’ll want ice cream too, I’m sure.”

When Len gets home, the twins greet him with careful hugs and a request. “Can we eat ice cream and read Calvin and Hobbes?” little Mick asks. “I miss that time with you.”

Len glances up at Barry wide-eyed, like he’s wondering what happened in the interim. Barry just shrugs. He’ll explain later if Len is worried, but for now, he just wants Len to enjoy the time with the twins. 

“Yeah,” he agrees after a moment. He wraps his arms around their shoulders and guides them both toward the couch. “Let’s do that.”

Once Barry is sure they’re sitting comfortably, he speeds in with two bowls of ice cream: one for Len and Nora to share, and one for him to share with little Mick. (It’s only fair to make sure two speedsters don’t eat out of the same bowl.) “Now,” he says, snuggling up to little Mick and peering at the comic collection open on Len’s lap. “What are our intrepid heroes up to today?”

It’s the closest they’ve all been since what happened with Bivolo, and it feels completely relaxed. Barry can’t help breathing a silent sigh of relief. Maybe everything will really be okay.


End file.
